As the title suggests, the books is based on the now fairly familiar concept of a ‘microadventure’ which is described by the author as:

“adventures that are close to home, cheap, simple, short, and yet very effective. A microadventure has the spirit (and therefore the benefits) of a big adventure. It’s just all condensed into a weekend away, or even a midweek escape from the office. Even people living in big cities are not very far away from small pockets of wilderness.”

And that is exactly what the book is about – microadventures that can be done pretty much anywhere, anytime, with little or no money. Perfect, not only for UK in which the book is aimed, but at Japan too which shares similar lifestyles and population densities.

The concept of 5-to-9 runs throughout the book, in which you make the most of evening/early morning hours between work, has already got me considering short cycling trips into the local hills. In fact, to the author’s credit, I’m even beginning to question to the value of weekday road cycling just for the sake of racking up distance and hours. Sure, it keeps me fit and healthy, but wouldn’t it be even better to add a splash of adventure and just cycle without having to worry about getting home the same day? Much better to turn it into an adventure by picking somewhere new, packing the sleeping bag and bivvy and sleeping under the stars.

Until recently I’ve been struggling with the concept of cycling to campsites while hauling a tent up and down all those steep mountains just so I can pay for the privilege of sleeping next to complete strangers more attached to the latest camping gear and cans of Asahi beer than the surrounding environment. Why limit yourself to campsites or even hotels? I dreamt of that kind of freedom when I was travelling in my early twenties but even back then I mostly remained confined to Australian backpackers hostels and Indian guest houses.

Of course wild camping is nothing new, even in Japan, but it’s always made me feel somewhat awkward. Microadventures, and in particular, Alastair’s admiration for the modest bivvy bag has changed all of that, and the book has made me realize – if somewhat overdue – that it is fine to not have any plans whatsoever, that it’s fine just to ride until dark, sleep, get up and repeat. Just don’t litter. It’s quite fitting that there are a number of chapters geared directly towards cyclists (any kind of cyclist).

The book concentrates on the UK but it can just as easily be adapted for Japan. In fact, with all these mountains and trains, I’d suggest it’s even more suited to Japan.